CEILING IS THE FLOOR
Day one! Standing at the registration counter, holding a brown leather folder, in my mauve sheath dress ornated with Swarovski jewellery. I the perfect poseur!
Having attended many debates in school, I was confident but seeing doyens all around my mind was quick enough to begin the comparative study and the outcome was the feeling of an excuse, “I am a novice to the world of NDC (National Debate Competition)!” Lined up with me were equally impressive participants and mostly males, quite sufficient to give me the heebie jeebie.
“Hi! I am Jini”, I extended my hand for a handshake with a boy standing next to me.
“HI! Vaibhav, I am in Lok Sabha, how about you?” confidently he began in his husky voice.
Moving towards the breakfast hall, informal intro session with others too began. Another fifteen minutes, I was a part of them. No more discombobulated! Back with confidence, I was the best conqueror.
9:45 Am, standing on podium, I Jini, class xii student of Tincy Public School, representing Ethiopia “contributor of world’s largest peacekeeping peace troops” read out my 90 second speech on Africa’s peacekeeping! The process continued with a trail of debates and speeches. I must tell you, to be an artful dodger in any debate one must have a strong hold over the subject and I had honed my skills with my dedicated research for a complete month. I believe that besides presentation, with whatever you allege stands your content, your knowledge.
By the end of the day everyone could identify four exemplars: Pratham representing Netherlands, Aayush representing Ivory Coast, Daksh representing Russia and I.
Hey! Hold. Ask me the difference between school debates and NDC!
Well! NDC is like collective intelligence gathered under one roof together for just two days with competition cultivating into strong bonds and good memories. Sharing work with competitors as if some exam is on and everyone must excel. Informal discussions, sweet chirping all around during tea breaks as if we were legally sitting in a class bunking zone. All together a new experience which treats you like a responsible grown up fellow. I would say it’s a chance to peep into the future. It’s a realization that the world is very different from what we experience in our schools and colleges. Being a girl, I have an additional advantage. I get to dress up smartly, my way and imagine mom helping me out!
Back home! Determined to perform even better on day two, impatiently ringing the bell, a hasty hug to mom, my family experienced a sudden thunder jolt seeing my stilettos, my folder, my glares all charged up in different directions as I entered. I was focussed. A quick shower, hogged my food ravenously and back to some more research as I had to leave no point untouched. What followed me was mom stalking with her habitual ranting. Taking out my dirty comb from her cupboard covered with a lock of hair, started feeding my innocent head yet again. “Jini! What mess you have created…. blah blah blah” and in the end, her favourite enlightenment “Jini those who realise their mistake, those who know what they did was wrong would never do it again. It’s important to realise and analyse your fault. It’s easy to be in a defensive mode. Everybody does that...” each word rutted on my cerebrum. That’s my mom’s favourite part of her daily speech. I can perfectly recite with her.
Day two saw a brighter and more confident delegate, today in charming peach attire.
Thru the day, discussion switched from threats to peacekeepers, to Congo, Sudan, South Sudan, seeing me rise and shine by the end of the day. Post lunch I was called upon as one of three members of resolution making committee along with Netherland and Ivory Coast delegates. Yes! I knew it! On cloud nine, with complete dedication we made the resolution, in the end assented by all but vetoed by Russia.
The session ended with my final speech on Africapitalism.
It was like the dawn ebbing its gradual way into day light. Walking the hall plastered with preachings and quotes, my head was buzzing with all possibilities. I could experience my numb fingers and sweaty palms.
Was it hinting my defeat? Why? I was perfect.
The intuition was right. Netherland got the best delegate followed by Ivory Coast and Russia. So many applauds, selection in resolution committee, what went wrong? Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, bollixed, I walked up-to the tea stall nearby. Two tea-stalls nearby, both were doing same mundane job but one was overcrowded. while I tried to notice the reason, I found that the way he was serving and engaging with customers was much better. My focus shifted. Unknowingly I reminisced my mom’s favourite lines, “those who don’t analyse never realise their mistake.”
I realised that given things are always the minimum standards and to achieve more, ceiling should be the floor. Reading out was allowed and I read out everything perfectly. I was doing as per given guidelines but probably without realising that guidelines are the minimum standards. Probably that’s where I went wrong. They were definitely doing more than minimum standards laid down. I saw them debating but never noticed that they weren’t referring to their papers. The loss became a big lesson of my life. I believe in being a perfectionist and that makes my mom’s favourite lines my most favourite lines too. In fact, today I follow it in every act I do.
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